


A Moment to Herself

by Rococo92



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Masturbation, Prison
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-04 13:47:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3070415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rococo92/pseuds/Rococo92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-Somewhere between season 3 and 4 in the prison- Beth can't sleep and happens upon Daryl in the showers. A bit of self-love ensues. Smutty PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s hot and stifling in her cell and Beth feels like she might float out of her bed she’s sweating so much. After two hours of lying awake, she gives up on sleep and sits up. She grimaces at the sticky feeling underneath her armpits and on her back, where her t-shirt clings uncomfortably to her skin. The floor feels nice and cold to her bare feet when she plants them there. She gathers her shower stuff and towel and heads to the showers, hoping a cold shower will help her cool off a bit. 

It’s at least half past 1 in the morning and most people seem to be sleeping, apart from those keeping watch. It’ll be nice and quiet in the showers for once. During the morning rush she’s lucky if she gets to wash her face before breakfast, let alone have a relaxing shower. 

As she gets to the showers though, she hears one of them running. Curious, she sneaks over to the makeshift stalls, peeking around the corner. It’s a little difficult to see, but she thinks it’s Daryl, his long hair plastered to his skull and neck. He’s leaning his arms against the wall, just standing underneath the shower with his head bowed. 

Suddenly feeling breathless, Beth studies the lean lines of his body, his strong arms and muscular back, lined with scars. She’s seen them before, briefly, on the farm, but now she has all the time in the world to look. She doesn’t want to though, because Daryl would cuss her out for sure if he knew she was standing there. He must be having a real bad day not to have noticed her yet. Normally it’s like he’s got some sort of sixth sense, always looking up before people have even rounded the corner. 

Her gaze moves down to his buttocks, lightly dusted with hair, leading down to his lean legs. There’s not much fat left on him, thanks to the lacking diet they’ve all been on for too long. Sure, there’s much more to eat now, with the vegetable garden growing well and him bringing in rabbits, squirrels and deer most days, but Daryl often seems inclined to feed all others before himself. 

She looks him over some more, thinking of how strong his arms must be to carry and load that crossbow, to bring home a deer carcass all on his own. He’d probably be able to hold her up for a while, pressed against the wall or even just up in the air… Beth feels her cheeks heat up at the thought, imagines his rough, calloused hands gripping her waist, caressing her ribs and breasts. 

Heat pools down low in her belly, a throbbing sort of sensation, which makes her feel slick in her panties. She shifts, restless, and suddenly doesn’t feel like showering at all. Quickly, before he notices her, she turns and flees back to her cell, flinging herself down on her bed. 

She adjusts the sheets acting as makeshift curtains so that no one can look in and crawls under a second, thin sheet. She feels nervous, excited somehow. Beth has done this before, touched herself, but never because of someone in particular, always just to get rid of that itchy feeling underneath her skin. Slowly, she starts rubbing circles over her underwear, warming herself up to it. She can feel moisture start to soak the fabric already, so she slips inside, dipping one finger in the small pool just beneath her clit. She’s never been so wet so fast, and when she rubs softly across her clit, her own slick easing the way, she has to bite back a moan. Already she feels on edge, a strange energy humming its way through her body. Her other hand sneaks under her shirt and towards her breast, nipple taut and sensitive to her hesitant touch. 

A second finger joins the first to gather some more slick and she used them to create a V-shape to bracket her clit, all the while rubbing in circular shapes. She thinks of Daryl’s larger hands, how his rougher skin would feel touching her most sensitive parts, her wet lips and even wetter hole. She imagines him slipping in one finger, mimicking her fantasy with one finger of her own. His would be bigger, more of a stretch, so she adds another, barely keeping in a whimper. She’s tight, not having done this in a while, but she’s so turned on that it doesn’t take long to relax enough that her fingers can go deeper, to rub at her spongy insides. 

Her breath hitches as moisture starts to drip out of her pussy, the in and out motion of her fingers spreading it all over her lips, the very most inside parts of her thighs. She feels just as sticky as before, but it’s good now. She thinks Daryl would like this, would appreciate how wet she is for him. She starts circling her soaked finger on her clit again, feeling ready to explode. She imagines Daryl bending over between her legs, his slippery tongue massaging her, sucking at her clit. His stubble would scratch at her soft skin, but she thinks she would like that, a bit of rough to contrast his soft kisses and just like that, she spills over the edge, feels her insides clamping down and her toes curling in pleasure. She doesn’t make much noise, all too aware of the way sound carries in the cellblock, but she does let out a breathy sound of relief.

Beth feels pleasantly hazy now, her head sleepy and her limbs numb. She wipes her wet fingers on her matrass and tugs down her t-shirt. She falls asleep not long after, dreaming of Daryl, his blue eyes and grumpy demeanor. It’s not like he’ll know what she did and what’s she’s thinking about when she looks at him. He’s observant, but no mind reader. 

\--

The next morning she spots Daryl leaving on his motorcycle with Michonne, and jealousy hits her hard in the chest. She’s determined to get better at the useful stuff that Maggie, Michonne and Carol do without a second thought. Maybe he’ll notice her then. Maybe he’ll see her as a woman, instead of a silly girl who’s good with babies and singing and nothing else. She’ll ask Carol to teach her how to use a knife and go shooting with Carl and Rick and make Maggie help her get strong enough to carry a heavy rifle. She’ll get better.


	2. Perch of solitude and pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl felt the telltale pinpricks on the back of his neck that signaled someone was at his back. After finished his shower, he passes Beth's cell and hears her. Smut once again.

Daryl lets the warm water crash over his head and back, feeling the day’s tension wash away along with the dirt and grime that seems to perpetually cling to his skin. For just a moment, he lets himself relax, forces himself to stop thinking about everything he still needs to do, things to get on the next run or things to talk about with the council. He lets his head empty out all of the stressful thoughts and just stands there, leaning against the wall. He’s so filled up with not-thinking, that it takes him a while to feel the telltale pinpricks on the back of his neck that signal someone is at his back. 

He doesn’t move, because he can hear the shallow breaths the person behind him is making, and somehow, he doesn’t feel threatened at all, even though he is so exposed- even though his scars are on full display, even in the darkness of this room.   
The list of people who can do that to him is very, very short. 

It’s not Rick, because he just saw Rick sleeping in his cell, Carl in the bunk above his. It’s not Herschel, because Herschel tends to make a lot of noise walking nowadays, just as Maggie does with her firm strides. It could be Glenn, but he would have just continued walking, presumably to get his own shower. Michonne is on guard duty, had just relieved him. 

That leaves Beth, quiet gentle Beth. 

She shifts, thin bedclothes rustling quietly. He can’t hear much because of the shower stream, but somehow he just knows it’s her. Her breath hitches and she turns and walks away quickly, but not very steadily now. Just to be sure, he looks behind him, sees her long blond hair, thin shirt and shorts clinging to her back with sweat. She must’ve come here to cool down. 

 

The water stops running and he doesn’t get it started again, because he wants her to be able to come back once she’s seen him leave. She should get her shower and then get back to bed, because in a few hours Lil’ Asskicker will be up and crying for attention. Daryl dries himself off roughly, yanks on his clothes and makes his way back to the cellblock, to his perch above the others. He doesn’t spot Beth in the any of the hallways leading to the showers, so she must have just gone back to bed. 

He considers getting her, telling her that the showers are free now. She’d probably feel ashamed of herself, if he told her he saw her. In fact, he’s a bit ashamed as well, having felt her heated stare on his scarred, ugly back. It’s not anything any girl as sweet as Beth should see, even with the apocalypse going on outside their safe walls. Horrified, he realizes she would probably look at him with pity and sympathy, would probably want to hug him close. It’d comfort her more than it would him. 

 

As he passes her cell, he hesitates. The curtains around her bed are drawn tight, just one tiny sliver visible at the right angle. She must have settled in to go back to sleep. He’s about to continue on when he hears it. Incredibly soft and barely there at all. 

A whimper. 

He steps forward to enter her cell, thinking she might be in trouble, but then another whimper follows, accompanied by a wet sort of rubbing noise, like- like she’s touching herself. Beth draws in another sharp breath and he hears the sheets moving, the matrass-springs squeaking just a tiny bit at her movements. Through the tiny opening in her curtains, he can see her arm moving rapidly, a bit of her tummy exposed where she’s rucked up her shirt. 

How can she be doing this, when she’s just seen him? The sight of the raised skin of his scars would put even the horniest of teenagers out of the mood. Daryl frowns as the sounds, the movements speed up until it’s achingly quiet. 

Beth lets out this sweet, breathy sigh of relief and that’s when his pants start to tighten. He’s heard that sigh before, when she’s enjoying her sweet fruits or when Carol had massaged her sore shoulders after a whole day of carrying Lil’ Asskicker around. She’s only just seen him naked and only a few minutes after she’s having a freaking orgasm. Jesus Christ. 

 

Her breathing slows down, way down until he can tell she’s asleep and only then can he make his feet move. He lies down on his matrass, hard-on straining his jeans. He usually sleeps with his clothes on, but there’s no way he’s getting any sleep with the pain of his zipper pressing against his erection. He eases open the button and the zipper, fingers brushing his hard dick. He grunts a little under his breath and slides off his jeans before crawling under his blanket. He’s determined to just go straight to sleep, ignore his unwanted erection and the thoughts of the girl who caused it. But as usual when he’s trying not to think about something, it’s all he can think about. 

 

Skinny little Beth, fucking herself on her pretty little hands, moments after seeing him naked. She was probably thinking of him, imagining it was his fingers she was feeling inside her sleek, warm walls. Or maybe she was thinking about sinking down on his dick, riding him, perky little breasts bouncing along with her movements.   
His hands sneaks down into his boxers all on its own accord, circles his hot and heavy cock with a tight grip that almost makes him groan. He doesn’t have the illusion of privacy that Beth had had, no sheets to hang up to hide what he’s doing. 

He speeds up his hand, imaging her soft hands palming him, gathering some of the pre-cum dripping from the tip of his penis to slick the way. Maybe she’d lean down and lick at the drops, curious at the unfamiliar taste. She’d moan around him and take in more of him in her inexperienced mouth, tongue massaging the veins and the sensitive underside of his dick. That sweet little whimper he’d heard is probably what he’d get if he started bucking up into her waiting mouth, the tip of his dick hitting the back of her throat unexpectedly. He fondles his balls with his free hand, callouses causing a pleasant rub. She’d like that, his roughened finger pads rubbing at her sensitive little nipples, hardened and stiff from his attentions. He’s always liked licking and nibbling the rosy buds, making girls wetter even though he wasn’t touching them where they wanted it most. 

Beth would probably demand he fuck her, after enduring a while of his teasing. That stern voice she so rarely used, eyes glinting mischievously. Yeah, he’d like that. He’s so close, his dick impossibly hard, leaking more pre-cum than ever before. His hand is rough, stripping himself furiously as he imagines fucking Beth in her cell, her hands gripping his neck and shoulders. He spills all over his hand and stomach, hot creamy white shooting with such force that he even feels a drop land on his chin. Hastily, he cleans himself up with a rag, which he dumps at the bottom of his pack. No need to have that reminding him of what he just did. 

\---

The next morning, he gets up early and gets Michonne to go on a run with him. He can’t even think about facing Beth- or worse, Herschel. Just a hint of her blonde hair at breakfast had been enough to make his cheeks flush and his cock stir in interest. He’s never eaten faster, just to get out of there because she could settle down near him. God. He won’t ever be able to get the image of her pleasuring herself out of his head. He can’t look at her like she’s just another young girl in the camp, anymore. Nah, she’d grown up over night, in his mind. Beth the woman was more dangerous than Beth the sweet girl. Beth the woman is someone he could fall for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, no real contact between the two, but at least both got their rocks off, right?


	3. Getting there

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally some interaction between Beth and Daryl, and Beth finds the courage to ask for some training.

Michonne is looking at him with that sideways squint of hers. Daryl’s trying to ignore it, focus on the empty street they’re on, look out for walkers or people. After a while of her staring though, he’s had enough. 

“What?” he snaps at her, whirling around to face her. She remains expressionless and shrugs. “Just wondering what’s up with you.”   
“Nothin’s up with me,” he grumbles, walking towards the seemingly abandoned minimart. 

“Sure,” Michonne says, just as he knocks on the window a couple times. “You couldn’t wait to get out of the prison this morning. We have enough food.” No walkers are coming up to the door, but that doesn’t mean they’re not inside. He opens the door and steps inside, his bow pointing at any potential targets. 

“Can’t hurt to get more,” he replies, heading towards the canned food aisle. “’Sides, the fruit ain’t growing so well.” He checks the dates and stuffs canned peaches and pineapple in his pack. No matter that the peaches are Beth’s favorite. “Kids need their fruit.” 

Michonne joins him in gathering up some beans and soup. After that they move for the rice and pasta, all the dried food that might keep longer. They walk past the cosmetics aisle and they pack some more shampoo and shower gel, because people are falling in love with their shower and using up a lot of the stuff. Daryl personally doesn’t get it. One shower every three days is often enough for him. It’ll just make it tougher on them when they have to leave it behind. 

He stuffs some hairgrips and elastics in his pocket while Michonne looks for Bandaids and tape and then they move on to the soda aisle. The kids’ll like it if there’s some soda for after lunch. It’s rationed, of course, but most of the adults don’t drink it. Daryl can appreciate a good cold glass of coke, though. 

Both his and Michonne’s packs are full and they are about to leave when a shuddering groan reaches their ears. Sighing, Michonne hands him her pack and gets out her sword, slices clean through the head of the walker lying on the floor of the bread aisle, weakened after not getting enough to eat. It’s a good sign, means that there’s not much of a threat here. 

The hairgrips and elastics are burning a hole in his pocket. 

\--

By the time they get back to the prison it’s after lunch. Daryl’s stomach is rumbling though, so he makes his way over to the cafetaria, hoping there’s some stew or something left. “Here,” a plate is suddenly shoved under his nose. “I saved some for you,” Beth says. He looks up at her face, which is flustered. “For Michonne, as well.” She adds, gesturing towards the counter where another plate sits. 

“Hmm,” he grunts, taking the plate from her and sitting down. He starts eating immidiately, if only so that he’s not required to talk. She looks sweet, hair falling loose over her yellow t-shirt, cheeks blushing.   
“Whatcha think? I made it with Carol. Rick had some nice herbs in the garden so I thought they’d make the stew a bit better…” she trails off, unsure. He takes another bite and considers her. “It’s good, Greene.” It tastes a bit like the food at the farm, the homelyness of it all, her hopeful expression. Beth’s leaning against the picknicktable upon which he’s sitting and he’s trying not to envision how easy it would be to just grab her by the hips, crush his face into her soft belly, tease her bellybutton with his tongue. She would probably squirm adorably, trying to get away from him, letting out this breathy exhalation of his name. 

“Daryl!” She says, so firmly that it can’t be the first time she’s said his name. He realizes he’s been staring at her. He reaches into his pocket and tosses her the hairgrips and elastics. “Here,” he says gruffly, “So you can do your braids ’n shit.”   
She holds onto the carton packages, a pleased smile breaking on her face. It’s like it lights up the room with its brightness. Beth Greene is turning him into a right old sap. He tries not to think about what Merle would say about that. 

“Thank you, Daryl.” 

They just stay like that for a while, staring at each other. Daryl’s never been much of a talker and all the things he wants to say to her are not things she should hear. Beth seems perfectly content to just stand by his side, though, even though they’re not speaking. 

“Eat up,” She prompts him. “It’s getting cold.” She gestures towards his plate, still half-full. He grunts and focuses on eating. “Beth!” Carol calls outs, entering the cafeteria. She looks ruffled and slightly sweaty, probably from running around the prison. “There you are! Rick’s heading back out to the garden with Carl, so can you take care of Judy?” Beth heaves a sigh, before answering an affirmative. “Baby duty,” she says with a wry smile, that he doesn’t like nearly as much as the other one. 

She and Carol head off and Daryl frowns as he continues his meal, determined to enjoy every bite of the venison stew. He’s pretty sure it’s the best he’s ever eaten, and that’s partly because Beth cooked it up. Michonne joins him halfway through, inhaling her own meal just as fast. “She did good.” She remarks, eyes glittering in that knowing way she has. Michonne has a talent for getting people to reveal more than they intend to. Daryl intends to reveal exactly nothing. “Hmm.” 

Michonne’s answering grin makes him dread her next comment, with good reason. “Did she like her gift?” 

Jesus fuckin’ Christ. This woman is a pain in his ass. 

\---  
Next time she speaks Rick, or her daddy, she’ll ask him about getting some different chores. Different tasks, Beth corrects herself instantly. Judith is no chore. The baby is sweet, barely cries at all and loves to hear her sing. Beth’s always liked little kids, has always wanted to be a momma. Just, someday. Now, with all that’s going on, she wants to be useful in all the ways she possibly can be. Who knows when everything could fall apart again. She can’t rely on other people being able to shoot a gun for her. Heck, she can’t rely on her sister always being there to take care of her, either. Maggie’s usually busy with guard duty, or Glenn, or doing important council stuff that Beth can’t be a part of. 

She’s sick of it. Sick of being treated like some little helper, like she’s just an elf to everyone’s Santa. Well, screw that. She’s gonna learn how to shoot a gun and how to use a knife. Maybe she’ll even gather up the courage to ask Daryl for tracking lessons. 

She’ll do it. Just as soon as she’s found someone good to take care of Judith. 

At least Daryl liked her stew and got her hairgrips and elastics. Judith likes tugging on her hair and with the Walkers it’s best to keep her hair as out of the way as possible. If one of ‘em got ahold of it while she’s on fenceduty or something, she might just get bit or grabbed. No room for stupid mistakes. She sets down Judith in her carrier and walks over to her tiny mirror. Quickly, she brushes through her frizzy hair and starts a simple braid from the top of her head all the way down, securing the stray pieces with the hairgrips. 

“There,” She says to Judith. “All safe from your little fingers.” 

She spends the afternoon with Judith, just walking around outside, softly singing her favorite songs to her. 

\--

She spots Rick again after dinner, talking quietly with her daddy. They seem to be doing that a lot lately; her daddy is trying to get Rick back on track. His break from leadership has been good for him, but things just aren’t the same without his stern Sheriff lectures. 

She takes a deep breath, tilts her chin likes she’s seen Maggie do when she’s being stubborn and walks up to the pair, who regard her with faint surprise. “Bethy, what’s the matter?” Her daddy asks immidiately, concern clouding his gentle face. “I’d like to talk to you about the devision of labour,” she says. She’s been practicing her opening liner all afternoon, in between singing. 

The former Sheriff raises his eyebrows, saying:” Well, alright…What is it exactly that’s bothering you?” 

With another deep, steadiying breath, she begins her speech. “I feel like I could do more…Could do different tasks, other than taking care of Judith and the other kids. Not that I don’t like doing it,” Beth adds quickly at the two men’s questioning glances. “It’s just that I wanna do more. I wanna be able to protect myself- and others, too. I can’t learn how to do that if I’m always looking after the kids.” 

Her daddy is giving her a contemplative look, and she feels as if he’s looking into her very soul. 

“Where’s all this coming from, Bethy?” he asks, reaching out to touch her shoulder. “Don’t you feel safe, here in the prison?” 

“It’s not that, Daddy. I just want to be stronger, like Maggie and Michonne. Carol’s been doing lots of different jobs, too, so why can’t I?” Beth reminds herself to stand her ground. No more letting others tell her what to do. 

Rick, who’s been keeping silent so far, speaks up;” Herschel, I can’t see the harm in letting her get some training in. She oughtta be able to defend herself. The fences are keeping the walkers out, but you know they’re not the only threat out there.” 

Beth gives him a grateful smile;” Exactly, Daddy. I just wanna train.” Once she’s done with that, she’ll work on going along on runs. One step at a time. 

“Alright then…” her Daddy agrees with a heavy sigh. “We’ll start you off with some shootin’ lessons.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was more of a filler chapter than anything else and it did not want to come along at all. Next chapter's gonna have some sexy-time, but it didn't fit in with this one.


	4. Getting some practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth starts her training and Daryl gets roped into being the assistant.

Beth and Carol talk to some of the parents in block D and they agree to take care of Judith a couple of afternoons a week while Beth takes her lessons. First up is shooting a gun, which she’s never really had an interest in. She was always too preoccupied with taking care of her horse and picking sweet fruits to care much about shooting. That had been (and still is) Maggie’s thing. It’s loud, the gun is heavy and every time she pulls the trigger, the hilt of the gun slams back into her because she’s not used to it. 

Her daddy lets her shoot one bullet per gun a day, because they need to keep their supplies as high as possible. She likes the revolver and the sniper rifle, but the shotgun’s too cumbersome for her small frame. She needs to pack some muscle on, but the fact that they’re all still on rations means her body can’t really get the nutrients it needs to do that, and there’s not exactly a gym she can go to so she can lift some weights. She’s getting pretty good at aiming, especially with the rifle, which has a scope she can look through. They place the cans at different distances and after a couple of days, she hits about 70% of them. Her daddy says it’s good enough, and sends her over to Carol, who teaches her how to use the knives. 

“You gotta grip it like this,” Carol demonstrates, correcting Beth’s grip on the handle. “This way, you can stab it up and in, see?” She places the knife against the sack filled with grass, where Beth had drawn a crooked head and neck. 

Carol sticks the pointy end of the knife under the chin of the dummy. “Here’s soft. Feel that?” Beth presses her thumb underneath her own chin, feels her throat and sensitive under jaw. She nods at Carol, who continues: “We’re small, you and I, so getting them on the head is difficult. The skull is hard and unless they’re old, a knife isn’t gonna go in easily. Pick the soft spots. The eye sockets, up the nose, the ears and the temples.” As Carol lists them, Beth moves her fingers along the spots, pressing inwards to feel the vulnerable parts. 

“The walkers will try to grab you first, so you gotta get your arms free, alright.” Carol instructs, gripping Beth’s shoulders suddenly. “Try to get me off.” Carol’s grip tightens until it’s painful, her nails making little half-moons in her skin. She takes a step forward, but Carol just moves with her. “Jerk one shoulder to the side as you step. Use the momentum to your advantage.” Carol pulls Beth towards her. “Don’t let them get close, Beth.” 

Struggling against her pull, Beth wriggles until Carol has to slacken her grip in order to get a better hold of her. “Great, now get me off.” She enthuses. Beth swings her left shoulder to the right while stepping forward and Carol’s hand flies off of her. 

“Good job, Beth. Alright, what if they grab your neck or hair?” Beth’s head snaps back suddenly as Carol pulls on her long braid. She windmills her arms helplessly as she loses her balances and falls flat on her butt. 

“Ow…” She mutters, rubbing her head where she’s sure Carol’s pulled out a couple hairs.  
“Sorry, Beth. But you gotta learn.” Carol says solemnly. “Let me show you, okay?” 

She glances over to where Daryl’s working on his bike and calls his name. He looks up, squinting against the glare of the sun. “Can you come give a demonstration?” 

He stands up and shrugs, walking towards them. Beth had been so into the lesson that she hadn’t even noticed him. She scrambles up from the ground, her cheeks burning bright red. God, how’s she ever gonna prove she’s good enough like that? Just falling over when someone pulls on her braid like she’s still some little schoolgirl. 

“What do you need me to do?” Daryl grunts as he comes to a stop next to them, eyes moving quickly between Beth and Carol, as if he can’t decide where to look. 

“Attack me.” Carol says firmly, “Beth’s gotta see what to do when a walker grabs her.”

Daryl raises his eyebrows, clearly skeptical. 

“You wanna let her practice with an actual walker, instead?” Carol shoots back. At his horrified expression, she says with a smug smile: “Thought so. Now c’mon. Attack me.” 

 

\---

Daryl’s just working on his bike- gotta make sure she keeps runnin’ smoothly- when Carol and Beth start practicing with the dummy. At first, Beth seems eager, upbeat. She grabs the knife and makes haphazard stabbing motions into the dummy. When Carol laughs gently, adjusts her grip and shows her the proper places to thrust the knife into, she becomes still, more serious and focused on the task at hand. 

Good.

He doesn’t wanna lose her just ‘cause she got overconfident. They all had to learn the hard way how to fight a walker, but that doesn’t mean they let other make unnecessary- and possibly fatal- mistakes. 

Especially Beth.

God, he doesn’t know what any of them- including him- would do if Beth got taken from them. All of them have already lost so much, and some nights it was just Beth and her gentle songs that got them through it.

He’s been staring at them for a while now, and he’s sure Carol’s noticed, so he tries to concentrate on his bike, hearing Merle’s instructions on how to take care of her echoing in his mind. 

Still, he can’t help but look up every now and then, which how he sees Carol pulling Beth’s braid and Beth falling adorably on her butt. She seems put out by Carol’s attack, but walkers like to grab things and that hair might as well be a neon sign saying: “Grab me.” 

She’d probably feel embarrassed if anyone saw her like that, though, so he quickly turns back to working on his bike. 

“Daryl!” Carol calls out to him. “Can you come give a demonstration?” 

Busted…

He wipes off his hands as best he can and heads towards them, Beth getting to her feet quickly, her rosy cheeks fired up. 

“What do you need me to do?” Daryl says, eyes flickering between Carol, who’s looking way too self-satisfied, and Beth, skin flushed and shiny from exertion and nerves. Neither of them is good for him to look at, right now. 

“Attack me,” Carol says; confirming his suspicions, “Beth’s gotta see what to do when a walker grabs her.” 

He raises his eyebrows at her. As if he can’t see what she’s up to. Next, she’ll be asking him to put his arms around Beth, pretending to be a walker. Carol can be subtle when she wants to be, but she’s not fooling him for a second. 

“You wanna let her practice with an actual walker, instead?” Carol shoots back. 

Aw hell no. He’s not letting Beth anywhere near any walkers until he’s sure she can handle them. She’s gettin’ pretty good with a gun, but bullets run out fast. Hand to hand combat’s always the way to go. 

“Thought so. Now c’mon, attack me.” 

With a heavy sigh, he lifts his arms and grabs Carol’s shoulders, clawing towards her neck, pulling her backwards.

“See, Beth. Daryl’s taller than me, so he has to reach down to grab me,” Carol huffs, wrenching her shoulder free, simultaneously swinging her elbow back and up. He can just manage to duck it. 

“A walker would have gotten an elbow to the face.” Daryl murmurs, “But I’m no walker.” He walks in front of Carol, placing his hands back on her shoulders. 

“You wanna make them keep the arms straight, okay? Walker- or human- when the arms are straight they don’t have as much strength in them.” Carol explains calmly. “Bring your arms up like this,” she brings her wrists together in front of her chest,” And then jam them up and out against their arms. You gotta catch ‘em by surprise.” She does exactly as she says and Daryl’s arms spring free. 

Beth nods, eyes wide, taking everything in. “What if I can’t get my arms free?” She asks, looking at Daryl. 

“If it’s people grabbin’ ya, use your foot. Carol, go ahead.” He circles his arms around Carol, grabbing her tight around the waist whilst pinning her arms down. 

He’s pretty sure his boots are firm enough for this. 

Carol starts talking:” Now, if I kick backwards, I’m not gonna do much damage because we’re too close together, see? But I can lift my leg up,” she bends her knee to her waist, looking back down at Daryl’s feet. “And aim for his feet. You wanna hit the top of the foot, alright?” She brings her heel down powerfully. 

“Ow, god-fuckin-damnit!” Daryl curses loudly as pain erupts in his foot. 

“See,” Carol says proudly. “They’ll be hopping around on one leg, and then you can pretty much do what ya want. Like bringing your elbow down on their back.” 

He did not fucking sign up for a goddamn beating. Why can’t a guy just work on his bike in peace?

\---

“Daryl?” Beth’s voice drifts up the cellblock to where he’s trying to find a comfortable position on his bed. 

“Hmm,” He grunts in acknowledgement. 

“You okay?” She asks, walking up the stairs to his perch. “Carol got you pretty good.” 

Yeah, Carol did everything he taught her – including not holding back. 

“Back’s not so good. She got me right below my ribs. 'S a good spot to pick.”

She’s silent as she’s standing over him. She’s holding a tube- some kinda lotion. 

“What you got there?” He prompts, sitting up so he can look at her better. Her breathing’s harsh and choppy- she’s clearly anxious about something.

“I thought…I thought I could maybe massage your back, or somethin’? Cause you got hurt because of me.” She blurts out, cheeks immediately reddening. 

He frowns, cause the thought of Beth touching him- there, of all places… Words escape him. He doesn’t even really wanna contemplate it. That part of him- that ugly, wounded part of him- he doesn’t want anyone to see, least of all her. 

“I know about the scars.” She whispers. “When you were hurt, on the farm…” 

He grunts again, a soft “hmm” just to say he knows. 

“I used to fall off my horse a lot, when I was just learnin’ to ride her. My back would hurt so bad, and my momma would just massage it with this sweet almond oil until I was all relaxed and sleepy,” a soft smile graces her face, and suddenly it doesn’t seem such a bad idea. Her soft, small hands, kneading his hard, gnarled flesh. 

“Of course, the next day it hurt again, but at least I could get to sleep and I got to try again. I thought, maybe you’d wanna get a good night’s sleep for once?” 

He looks at her carefully, her earnest face, her big blue eyes staring at him without blinking. 

He gives her a barely there nod, strips off his vest, and then his t-shirt. Her eyes fall immediately to his tattooed chest, which also bears a fair amount of scars, but not all of them old. 

He turns around before he can change his mind and he hears her suck in a shuddering breath. 

“Y’don’t have to.” He says softly, squeezing his eyes shut. He waits for her to leave, but instead she sinks down on her knees behind him. 

He hears the snick of the bottle cap, the squirty noise of the lotion as it hits her palms. She rubs it into her hands a bit, warming it up, before touching one of them carefully to his shoulder.

“This okay?” She asks, voice husky, while her other hand joins the first in rubbing the lotion into his skin. The pressure is barely there. She's letting him set the pace. 

“Hmm.” 

Her thumb presses into the tense muscle of his shoulder a little, and he lets his head droop down, finding himself relaxing despite himself. 

Her hands smooth further down, her soft skin touching some of his scars, and he flinches a little. “If you want me to stop, just say so, ‘kay?” She says gently, hands moving outward to his sides, pressing gently to release the tension. 

“You’re good at this.” He manages, voice sounding choked. His back may be relaxing, but he can feel himself stiffening behind his zipper, her hands and soft voice calming him and rousing him at the same time. He's too chilled to really feel any shame over it, though. Besides, he's pretty sure she hasn't noticed. 

“I do this with Maggie sometimes, when she’s had the night shift up in the guard tower. She gets really tense in her shoulders.” Beth comments, hands continuing their blessed work. 

“This where Carol got ya, huh?” she asks, fingers circling the beginning of a bruise. 

“Yeah, she’s got pointy elbows, that woman.” He laughs gruffly. “I regret ever teaching her that move.” 

“I’m glad you did.” Beth says sunnily. “Because now she can teach me. I promise I won’t do it that hard, though.” 

“Whatcha mean, you promise?” He asks, head snapping up in his surprise. He’s hardly even focused on the fact that she’s touching his bare back, anymore. Beth’s good at distracting him. 

“Carol said next time I get to practice on you.”

Goddamnit, Carol.

"Without even asking me, huh," he groans, just as Beth digs her thumb into one of his tense muscles in his lower back. She's hunched over him now, and he can feel the hot puffs of her breath against his skin. He shivers, dick straining against his jeans. It's getting to be a bit uncomfortable. All he wants to do is turn around and grab her, smash his mouth against hers in a brutal kiss, slam their hips together to get some relief. She'd probably turn just as red as she did this afternoon. 

"You wanna maybe lay down?" Beth suggests, tone completely innocent. This girl is gonna be the death of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite as sexy as I'd promised, but I felt it was a bit too soon. They did get some intimacy in, though...Hope you enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr if you want! @ roroco92


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